I Gots Me A HOBBY!
by Penname wa Silver B
Summary: GIR gets himself a hobby! Chaos is wrought! Dear spork it's horrible! The author needs reviews! This is a desperate plea for mental help! My daddy never hugged me! Just read it!


(BEHOLD! I have written an abomination! Reading it's as fun as getting your eyes gouged out with a spork! GIR is somewhat out-of-character in this fanfic - hey, having your favorite show cancelled can change a person. I actually like ZADR, and am a huge fan of the show and all its characters, especially Zim. The idea for this just came to me, and I went with it. Well, I hope someone enjoys it.

Disclaimer: If I were Jhonen Vasquez, I probably wouldn't have written this. But you never know.)

I gots me a HOBBY!

_The alien stared at him, globular red eyes glittering in their insectoid yet charming manner. "What's the matter, earth-stink?" he hissed, red tongue darting out seductively as he drew closer the bespectactled, large-headed boy. "I thought you wanted to uncover me..." _

_"Y-yeah, but n-n-n-not like that, Zim!" Dib protested, stuttering nervously even as he was turned on, two black-gloved, three-fingered hands grasping his trenchcoat and pulling it off the boy's shoulders. "I mean I want to examine you - " Wrong wording. The green alien slipped out of his invader's uniform with ease and pressed close to Dib, his eyes breathing heavily. _

_"Then examine me..." With an ecstatic moan, Dib gave up and dug in._

GIR paused thoughtfully, little metal hands poised above the keyboard. "'Dug in'... maybe that's a little too blunt. I don't know... and would Zim even say that? Hmm... probably not. BUT WHO CARES!" With a manic laugh, GIR resumed typing at a breakneck speed, overcompensating for his lacking manual dexterity with insane enthusiasm.

"GIR! GET OVER HERE!" Zim barked from somewhere deep in the base. The malfunctioning SIR unit's cyan parts flashed crimson, still typing with one hand as the other slammed to his forehead in an exaggerated salute. "YES, MY MASTER!" Rockets exploded from the bottoms of his feet, sending him catapulting backward through the air. Duty Mode shut off mid-flight, and GIR screeched with joy as he crashed headfirst into the floor a foot away from where his master stood.

"Where were you?" Zim's lower lip jutted out crossly, his head looking upside-down from GIR's position on the floor. The tiny robot swiftly righted himself.

"I gots me a HOBBY!" GIR responded, tongue sticking out to the side in a less-than-smart fashion.

"Hmm... so you do," Zim dismissed, not overly concerned with his servile unit's activities as he turned back to the computer console he'd been working at, an evil smile spreading across his face. "Alright! Here's what I've been working on, GIR! As you know, the Dib-human is obSESSED with his parachuting... things. Like Bigfeets! So, I've taken advantage of this by designing - A SUPER-ENORMOUS PARACHUTING DEVICE! Except I think the word is paranormal... but enough about that, more about Zim!" Zim's fist clenched dramatically as the alien broke into a full evil grin. "The instant the Dib-beast sees my EXTRAORDINARY machine, his puny stink-brain will EXPLODE! Explode... like so much spaghetti, sloshed around inside his gigantic SKULL! WWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAAA!"

"WARNING: SELF-DESTRUCT IMMINENT," the computer's voice warned imminently. Self-destructy. I had to get that in there somewhere.

"HAhehehe... heh?" Zim's eyes popped open in horror at the flashing red screen. In his excitement, he'd stricken a conquistador pose, one foot perched up on the computer panel... square on the self-destruct button. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO Zim! NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOO - " He was interrupted as the screen blew up in his face. Fortunately, it was only one computer console destroyed (the main computer holding back-ups of his plans), and the most damage done to Zim was a blackened face and some wounded pride. The soot was easily wiped off, and Zim's pride is infamous for its regenerative properties.

"Oh well... I'm kinda thirsty anyway," Zim decided, shrugging it off and heading toward the elevator leading up to the ground floor. It was not to be, however, as GIR had found the moment perfect to practice his running-in-circles-aimlessly-while-screaming routine, and predictably crashed into his extraterrestrial master.

"AUGH! GIR! WHAT ARE YOU DOI - hm?" GIR's head had popped open in the collision, causing dozens of sheets of paper to go flying out of his hollow metal cranium. One had landed on Zim's own head, and Zim examined it curiously now. It was the fifteenth page of a story, though, so it didn't make much sense starting from there. Making a frantic whining sound, GIR snatched it from Zim's hands, along with all the other papers that had spilled out. Niftily enough, his little robotic brain helped him quickly sort them back into the proper order - just to have Zim snatch them in turn. GIR would have been concerned, but his amazingly short attention span had kicked in at this point, and he was now more preoccupied with just how very shiny and purple that one cable overhead was. Meanwhile, Zim scanned the first several sentences.

_It was night out. So wonderfully, beautifully night. Night. Nighty night night. So dark and... night. Dib stared up at the night sky, fascinated by its nightness._

_"It's night," Dib sighed. _

"What is the meaning of this, GIR?" Zim demanded, perplexed. "Just what... IS this, anyway?"

"It's a fanfic!" GIR squeaked. "AH WROTE IT MAHSELF!" And having mercilessly butchered one of his own quotes, he went back to ooh-ing and aah-ing over the cable.

"A 'fanfic'? What is a 'fanfic'? And why would you write about the FILTHY Dib-huMAAAN?" the Irken irked.

"Don't be sad, master - you're in it too!"

"I am, am I? Heh, heh... of course I am. I am the ALMIGHTY Zim! It would be impossible NOT to write about me!" Zim chortled, settling down comfortably in a nearby seat. Now that he knew he was in the story, he was earnest to read it. In a hurry to get to the part where he was introduced, Zim skimmed through the content of the next few pages - Dib's reminiscences about invading Zim's base; Dib's reflection on Zim's appearance (Zim shot GIR a glare at the part where his antannae were likened to those of a cockroach, but the robot had discovered he could detach his limbs and stow them in his own head, and was having too much fun with self-dismemberment to notice); Dib's abuse at the hands of his sister and neglect at the hands of his father (err wait, that sounded wrong, aw screw it); Dib's angsty goth poetry; Dib's thoughts about suicide; Dib's thoughts about giant alien bunnies; Dib's horrible accident with spearing his hand on his own scythe-like hair; more of Dib's thoughts about Zim; and, finally, Dib's decision to invade Zim's base again. Realizing his part must be coming up soon, Zim eagerly flipped the page.

"Ah-HAH! I've got the Dib-stink RIGHT where I want him!" Zim gloated aloud as he read, as boastful as if it were happening. "Him and his big, STUPID head... heh... hehe... HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA! I've tied him to the table! Not something I'd usually do but - oh, look! He's trying to get FREE! Struggle all you want, DIB! It's HOPELESS! WAHAHAHAHAA - huh? I'm taking off his clothes? Uh... that's a little strange... Well, uh, I obviously just want to see what makes the Dib tick! Yeah! That's it! Autopsy..." Still, the alien seemed nervous as he turned the page... and even more nervous yet, as it became obscenely clear what the fictional Zim was performing on Dib was NOT an autopsy in any sense of the word. "Guh... geeeeyuh... GUUUHHH..." Even for an Irken, Zim was looking extremely green, holding the papers at arm's length as though they might bite him... OR WORSE.

"Do you like it, Master?" GIR queried, wearing his usual insanely happy expression and limbs (somehow all reattached), oblivious to the horrified stare he was getting. Zim had never been so terrified of his little SIR unit in his entire life. Not even when GIR was locked on Duty Mode... no, that hadn't come CLOSE.

"GIR... you... wrote THIS?" Zim quavered, turning the paper's written side away from himself and toward the robot's eyes.

"I sure did!" GIR replied, still chipper. "After they cancelled the Scary Monkey Show" - a look of supreme hatred crossed GIR's face, but was gone as quickly as it had come - "I found something better to do with my time! Which reminds me, I have to go poke the lady-in-charge-of-cancelling-things's corpse with a fork now! Doo dee doo dee doo..." GIR hopped on the elevator and left for another floor, leaving Zim alone to wallow in fearful repulsion of the monstrosity he'd just read. But for the sound of a lone moose exploding somewhere in the distance, all was quiet.

* * *

**_RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGG. MORE RINGING. RINGY, RINGY SOUNDS. DAMN I'M AN ANNOYING SCHOOL BELL! RING RING RING! HAHA! GOD, I LOVE MY JOB. RRRRRINNNNG RRRRRIIINNNG RRRRRIIIINNNNGG! I MEAN, SURE I USED TO BE A REGULAR HUMAN BEING BEFORE MY SOUL WAS TRAPPED IN THIS HORRIBLE PRISON OF COLD RINGING METAL... BUT, HEY I CAN RING! AND RING I SHALL! RING RING RING RRRRRIIIIIIIIINNNGGG! OH GOD, I CAN'T GO ON LIKE THIS. SOMEONE, KILL ME NOW! RING!_**

Dib was roused from his thoughts by the ringing of the school's newly accursed bell (There's a story behind that. But I'm not gonna tell it.). Uttering a very intelligent "Huh, wha?" he looked to Zim's seat. Still empty. Dib sighed. The alien hadn't been to school at all today. It was... boring, without the Irken there, to tell the truth. He -

"Dib. Skool's over. Get out." The sinuous teacher arched over Dib's desk and pressed her nose a half-inch away from his face, grimacing unpleasantly.

"Yes, Ms. Bitters," Dib mumbled, pulling books out of his desk and into his pack before exiting the empty classroom (empty, discounting Ms. Bitters's dark presence). Though immersed in her GameSlave 2, Gaz was waiting for him on the school steps, barely acknowledging him with a grunt and simultaneously navigating a vampiric piggy slayer and her feet as she and her brother began the walk home.

"He wasn't in class today," Dib remarked not two seconds after they'd left skool grounds.

"Who wasn't?" Gaz muttered, driving her avatar's sword in a porcine gut and twisting, delighting in the resulting piggish squeals of PAIN.

"Zim!" Dib said, not catching the sarcasm. "I'll bet he's up to something - I mean, he's ALWAYS up to something, but I bet he's up to something, times TWO! Or maybe even, times _three_... I'll have to investigate!" There was a long pause, and then a loud squelching sound and a drawn-out, hopeless scream sounded from Gaz's GameSlave. Her squinted eyes bugged furiously, trained on Dib.

"Your talking... made me DIE..." Dib's own eyes shrank as his sister's shadow fell over him, the video game character's scream soon echoed by his own...

* * *

Now, skipping over Dib's horrible punishment at the hands of Gaz (still sounds wrong), we cut ahead to a few hours later, in the living room section of Zim's base. Because I'm the author, I'm in charge and I say so. I also say you should stand on your head and spin in circles until you go blue in the face, and then some. DO IT.

The door creaked open. An instant later, Dib's head peeked through, eyes shifting suspiciously. The sun had since set, and it was difficult to see much of anything in this darkness, but he was relatively certain no unwanted surprises awaited him. Easing the door shut behind him and wincing at the dull _clunk_ as it closed, Dib tiptoed cautiously into the room, still surveying his surroundings and shuddering at that horrible green monkey portait. Entering the kitchen, Dib noticed the toilet against the far wall, below the "I EAT FOOD" poster. It looked so wrong - all the more proof Zim was an alien! He wished he'd brought his camera with him... come to think of it, why HADN'T he brought his camera with him? Anyway, Dib had been here enough times to know the "toilet" was actually a secret entrance into the nether levels of the base. Hesitantly climbing into the toilet bowl, Dib realized it probably wasn't the wisest idea to tromp gung-ho into an alien monster's subterranean lair, but he HAD to find out what Zim was planning! So, taking a deep breath, Dib flushed himself down like so much big-headed doody.

As it turned out, Zim _wasn't_ planning anything just then. Other than plotting out how to rid himself of emotional scar tissue, that is. As fond as the author was of Zim's adorably vulnerable fetal position, lying curled up in himself whimpering for a good part of the day hadn't really accomplished much. Completely unaware of the intrusion in another part of his base, Zim busily set about typing coordinates on the large computer panel before him, watching the even larger screen carefully.

"If speaking with the Almighty Tallest can't get my mind off that - grrrrgh - **_FILTH_** GIR wrote, nothing will," he said decisively to himself. "I have the blueprints to some plans I've been wanting to get their opinions on, anyway." He stopped suddenly as a door into the room slid open, and GIR walked in. He was wearing that dog suit again, Zim noticed. Zim also noticed the robotic minion was holding a fork stained with old blood, though he quickly put it away. Zim didn't want to know.

"Whatcha doin', Master?" GIR sing-sang happily.

"I'm contacting the Tallest," Zim responded briskly, before turning to face his robot. "GIR! I don't want you writing any more of that" - Zim shuddered deeply - "squicky - Dib - me - STUFF - ANYMORE! Do you understand me, GIR? DO YOU!"

"Oooohhhh yeeeeaaahhh," GIR nodded, pulling off the doggy-faced hood of the costume so he could pop open his head and pull out a stack of paper. "I likes RAPR better anyways!"

"Yeah, yeah, that's great GIR," Zim said, waving the robot away as he concentrated on the screen. "Just... don't bother me, okay?"

"Oookiedoookie. Oooo..." Unbeknownst to Zim, GIR had just noticed the blueprints.

* * *

Meanwhile, somewhere else in the base, Dib was having the time of his life. Running from here to there, from this cybernetic beaver to that humongous toaster, Dib was overwhelmed by the sheer... overwhelmingness of Irken technology. And then, espying a stack of paper in a comfortable alien seat, Dib found what he assumed to be what he was searching for. 

"Those must be Zim's plans!" Grinning ear-to-ear, the unhealthily obsessed boy picked them up and began reading. "Huh, that's funny. I can understand this... and it's about me!" And so an unwitting Dib sat down and started on GIR's fanfic.

* * *

Zim was grinning ear-to-ear, too, despite having no ears. "MY TALLEST!" he cried gleefully as two familiar forms appeared onscreen. "MYTALLESTMYTALLEST! The signal finally went through! I don't want to sound paranoid, but these past few days, it's almost as if something's been trying to block my transmissions to the Massive... funny, huh, my Tallest? But don't worry, I found a way around it." The Tallest, who'd been attempting to block Zim's calls, exchanged glances uneasily. 

"Blocking your signals... and you got through... you don't say," Red muttered. "Well, we're as happy to see you as we always are, Zim." Zim took this as a positive comment.

"So what are you calling about?" Purple sighed, eager to get this over with. Lately, keeping contact with Zim had become more annoying than amusing - especially after Zim's whole remote-piloting-the-Massive-through-asteroid-fields-and-burning-suns-with-reckless-abandon incident.

Zim paused, one antenna twitching thoughtfully. "I just wanted to say hi," he said finally.

"That's... all?" Red twitched in the eyelid, not the antenna.

"I also wanted to send you some of my INGEEEENIOUS plans so you can see how great they are!" Zim added enthusiastically, pressing a button on the control panel. Setting on a tray somewhere else on the control panel was a stack of paper, which were enveloped in a red ray of light and faded out of noticeable existence at the button's pressing. "I'm teleporting the blueprints to you now! I'll give you a chance to read through them - but don't worry, I'll call back in an hour! BYE MY TALLEST!" Zim waved and shut off the screen, a joyful smile on his face.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the aptly named Massive, the two Tallest stood in front of a snow-filled screen. To clarify "snow", I don't mean that wonderful Christmasy white stuff which turns out to be not so wonderful after falling for two months straight and seeping into your winter clothing until your extremities have been claimed by frostbite, but those fizzy black-and-white bars you get when you turn the TV to channel 03 and don't bother to put anything in the VCR you lazy son-of-a-moose. Tallest Red was the one to shut off the screen and spare himself and everyone else in the room from a horrible, moosey - err, snowy fate. Smirking, Red turned to his fellow Tallest. 

"'Give us an hour to read through them...' What was he thinking? Seriously, what IS Zim ever thinking? Does he think at all?"

"As if we don't have anything better to do than look at his stupid plans," Purple scoffed, stuffing his mouth full of the Irken version of popcorn, which Red helped himself to as well.

"Yeah!" Red said, crunching popped kernels noisily. "What does he think we do, just stand around and eat junk food all day?" The Tallest shared a good laugh over that one... though the laughter died down as it occured to them that was EXACTLY what they did all day.

"So, uh... blueprints," Red muttered, picking up the teleported papers.

"Yeah... blueprints," Purple echoed. There was a silence as Red read (THEY'S HOMOPHONES MAMA! For the perverted ignorami among you, homophones are two or more different words that sound exactly the same.).

"These aren't blueprints," he said finally, confused. Purple looked over his shoulder.

"Let me see - hey! It's a story about us! Why did Zim write a story about us?" Purple wondered. Red shrugged. "Oh well, let's read it." And so, after getting a popcorn refill from a nearby service drone, they did - for you see, it's damn near impossible to resist reading a story about yourself. They seemed to be enjoying it at first, until Red gasped sharply, inhaling an uncomfortable amount of popcorn and writhing on the floor in pain both physical and mental, pointing at the story in sheer terror. Purple, not yet caught up to Red in reading, looked at the other oddly and then looked back at the story.

"What's wrong? All that happened was I took off your clothes and MOTHER OF IRK!" Soon both Tallest were being asphyxiated by their popcorn as horrible imagery flooded their minds. The Massive's pilots watched the Tallest quizzically before falling on and consuming the abandoned popcorn. Then, curious, they read what had terrified their Tallest so and began laughing as hard as their Irken expiratory systems would allow, which was pretty hard. This left no one to pilot the Massive, which crashed into a small rock planet. If possible, this made the pilots laugh harder.

Thanks to a certain little robot's meddling, the Tallest hadn't gotten Zim's blueprints at all - but, rather, GIR's newest RAPR masterpiece.

* * *

"I'm sure glad I called the Tallest!" Zim commented to himself, hopping out of his chair. "Why, I can no longer remember what upset me in the first place!" He was swiftly reminded by Dib's piercing scream from somewhere off in the base. Bright expression darkening, Zim extended his spider legs and skittered toward the scream's source. 

Sure enough, there was the Dib human, face ghastly pale and hands shaking as they gripped - eh, what was that he had anyway? GIR's fanfic? And the stink-beast was terrified! HAH! Of course, Zim had been terrified as well, but that was beside the point, the point being at the end of the gleaming metal spider leg which shot of Zim's Pak and hit the floor next to the Dib, getting his attention. Though still nauseated by the horror of horrors he'd just read, the human was quick to react, leaping up out of the way as Zim's spider leg lashed out again.

"It's useless, pitiful WORM BABY!" Zim crowed, slicing the ceiling cable Dib clung to. Dib fell to the floor hard enough to get the wind knocked out of him, but Zim quickly regretted his actions nonetheless, as the split cable spewed electricity and several important Irken technology thingies (I'S A SMART AUTHOR, I IS!) were shut down with the disconnected power flow. But, just as quickly, Zim unregretted it; no matter! The almighty ZIM makes no mistakes! Though Dib, who had fled during the ample space of time the alien's internal gloating had lasted, would have said otherwise.

"GRR!" Zim shook his fists, then twisted his grimace into a nasty grin as he skulked forward on the spider legs, peering around his base carefully. "Come on out, Dib-human... you can't hide from me in my own base!"

"Yes I can!" the literally and figuratively big-headed boy snorted from his hiding place behind a power generator. "I've done it lots of times!" He clamped both hands over his mouth too late, as Zim had already heard him. He rolled out of the way just seconds before the spider legs smashed through the generator, shutting off still more power to the lab. Zim growled yet again, angered by his own recklessness but unwilling to admit it even to himself, blaming Dib instead.

"HORRIBLE, STINKING DIB-BEAST! Oh," Zim paused, and smirked as he saw what Dib was standing right in front of. Sure, it wasn't, say, a big exploding-head ray, but it was powered by a smaller generator of its own, and with the bigger guns down, it would do.

"Computer! Restrain the Dib!" Zim ordered.

"Huh?" Dib cried out as an operating table behind him sprang to life, ensnaring him with enlivened straps and tying him down to itself. (It's the same table the squid-brained police officer was tied to in "GIR Goes Crazy and Stuff", with some upgrades! Hurray obscure references!) Beaming triumphantly, Zim withdrew his mechanical legs and walked forward as the human struggled futilely against his bonds.

"It's USELESS, DIB!" Zim boasted in traditional evil bad guy tradition, 'cause it's traditiony! "You can't hope to esca - "

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Dib screamed. Zim twitched an eyelid, peeved at being interrupted.

"Like I said, YOU CAN'T HOPE TO ESCA - "

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

"CAN'T HOPE TO ESCAPE BECAUSE I - "

"IT'S JUST LIKE THAT HORRIBLE STORY!" Dib screeched, backing as far away from Zim as a person secured to an operating table can. "YOU'VE BEEN PLANNING THIS!" Zim glared, confused.

"I don't know what you're talking abou - " Zim stopped mid-sentence as he realized this was exactly how the sex scene in GIR's horrid fanfic had started. "You - think ZIM - " A full-body shiver swept over Zim. "Don't flatter yourself, human! I'd never do such - NNNGGH - REPULSIVE things to YOU!" Dib, who had been screaming the whole time, suddenly stopped.

"...why not?" he asked suddenly, looking visibly insulted. Zim stared at him speechlessly for a few moments, slightly slack-jawed, before setting his face in firm 'you disgust me' expression and hitting a red button on a nearby wall panel. Rockets promptly sprouted out the sides of the operating table, which flew up and away, crashing through the ceiling and all the way out of the base, exiting through the roof before it would come to a rough landing some yards away. Zim stood and listened to the soothing sound of Dib's screams fading into the distance for a while. Then, doing his best to ignore the damage done to his base and promising himself he'd fix it later, Zim hopped aboard the elevator leading to the trashcan-disguised entrance into the upper levels. He was still thirsty, after all.

Meanwhile, a delighted little voice could be heard commenting as its owner typed away, "I likes mpreg!"

THE END...? YEAH IT IS.

(Review if you liked it, and if you didn't, review anyway dammit.)


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